Rebuilding with Ruined Walls
by Fall in Snow
Summary: The Nations have been unveiled but with the aid of social media they can no longer be laughed away as in years before. Follow the British Isle brothers though the unveiling and the aftermath.
1. A Public Announecment

**This is my baby. For those of you reading anything else I write this is what has been taking all my time and my thoughts. The beginnings a little rough, but it's that way on purpose. You'll be filled in soon enough ^-^**

POV ?

"The President of the United States…" The station flipped. There was static before.

"Prime Minister of Canada…" another flip.

"…Queen of England." The camera zoomed in on an elderly lady who reflected the grace and poise of the royalty of old. She thought of the images she had watched of Queen Elizabeth II after the attacks by terrorists on English soil.

"My dearest country men, today light has been shed on a subject which has been one of history's greatest secrets. A secret many and few have known through the ages. The secret of which I speak is the personification of countries. Now I will begin by telling you the personifications have been around for centuries some even a millennia of time. They are nothing new. They have always been and will always be for the life time of the nation of which they represent.

"In my position as your Queen I have had many encounters with the nations, especially those of the United Kingdom and its common wealth. They are no great evil just as they are not gods. To my right I would like everyone to meet someone very dear to my heart. He has known me all of my life. He held my children when they were infants, my granddaughter vomited on his shoulder the first time they met. This seemingly young man is Arthur Kirkland. He is the personification of my dear England and the acting representative of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland."

Briefly the cameras flashed to said man who looks more like a boy than a man. A too big button down slid slightly over his shoulders, a crooked tie hastily strewn about his neck. His face held upright and stern willing to take anything thrown at him, but the lovely emerald green eyes revealed a glimmer of fear and yet shined with hope. Bushy eyebrows hide in the unkempt shaggy mess that is his hair. Some of the United Kingdom and the commonwealth viewers fall in love with him at first sight. The others are uncertain. Those citizens of England find that in their hearts they truly cannot hate this boyish looking man and continue to watch curious as to what their Queen proposes. The cameras swivel back to royalty.

"Now, what I ask of you my dear countrymen is that you stand beside me. I ask that you stand beside England," She gestured to her side at the man. "I ask that you stand besides all the nations of the United Kingdom and that we defend them as they have defended our ancestors, our sisters and brothers, our mothers and fathers. I ask," at this she held both of her hands to the side making a small come here motion. Four men moved softly to her: the blonde of before, an almost identical copy of him, a tall broad shouldered red head and a twiggy teen move up beside her. "That you stand beside your countries," she placed a hand out touching each one in turn. "That you stand beside Scotland. That you stand besides Northern Ireland." The twiggy red head blushed as he was touched giving the cameras a shy and bashful smile that left some viewers awing at the sight. "I ask that you stand besides Wales." The identical twin that had not been shown previously beamed at the Queen. "I ask that you stand beside England." She tilted her head to the nervous blonde who now looked as if he was holding back tears. "Let us stand together in defense of our Nations. Let us be proud of them. And let us move forward for the glory of all the nations in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland! Thank you." A cheer rose from the crowd while service men ushered the nations and the Queen off the stage.

"That was the Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland in response to the global outcry about the personification of nations. It's only been two days since the news was first unveiled and since then it has spread globally while several other nations are making similar speeches. An emergency meeting of the UN has been called along with the meeting of several governments. Now on to our correspondent in the United States where the President has just finished his speech. George."

"The response to the President's speech has not been unanimous. Most people seem to not have formed their own opinions as to what to do. A loud outcry has been made to have all of the nations' personifications identified and held securely until a solution has been found as to how to approach this new information. This is George Jameson reporting from the United States of America for the BBC news. Steve."

"Now we'll move to the ground where the Queen and the personified nations have taken their leave. Elizabeth, are you there?"

"Yes I am Steve."

"What can you tell me about the crowd's reaction to the Queen's speech?"

"There are some who are unsure of how they feel but the majority on the ground here are for standing by the Queen's message. They want to stand with their nations."

"Thank you Elizabeth."

"Let's move on to our political advisor. Lord Winningham, what do you think on the subject?"

"We should move on this cautiously. So far the United Kingdom has been the only nation to come out for the nations. Most of the governments of the world have not sided publicly if they are for or against the nations. The United Kingdom has taken a risky measure that could leave us open to attacks."

The T.V. was filliped off its viewer hugging her knees to her chest and rocking silently back and forth.


	2. Aftermath Little Girl

**First of I forgot last chapter. I do not own hetalia or India would be a chick. Second I'm sorry this is short the third chapter is already with my beta. Third thanks goes to my beta cus the stuff she doesn't edit isn't pretty.**

**Little Girl POV **

The room felt unfriendly after I turned off the telly. I didn't want to listen to them saying mean things about my friends. A loud trumpet sounded letting everyone know that the Queen, my grandma, was back. Hopefully Paddy and the others would be with her. Normally all of the brothers hid sweets in their pockets for me and gave them to me when they thought no one was watching, but today I had a feeling I would need to give candy to them. To make them feel better for everyone being so mean. It made me feel better—that and one of their hugs.

There was a rustle of sound as my grandma came in calling for tea and a blanket. My father entered at her side frantically trying to talk to her about something. Behind them came the brothers. Arthur, the one I see most, was pale and looked sick. His big brother Angus had his arm wrapped under his shoulders holding him up and steering him forward. Bran moved to his other side steadying him as he tried to fall. Paddy came nervously behind them.

Arthur wiggled in his brother's grasp asking to be let go as his hands moved to his mouth like he was going to be sick. My grandma liked to tell the story of how we met and I was sick all over his shoulder before giggling at him, but I didn't remember it; I was too little then.

Bran threw the roses out of a vase and shoved it under Arthur's face as he was sick in the vase. All the brothers made a face at the sound. Arthur slumped backwards afterwards his face still really pale and a groan left his lips.

Why were none of the grown-ups helping him? They were all bustling about, but none of them were really making Arthur feel better. His brothers were looking worriedly at the vase talking quickly among themselves with hand gestures and loud outside voices. Father and the new Prime Minister were talking to Grandma. Why was no one taking care of Arthur? He needed a hug and to be tucked into bed with a warm cup of tea. It always made me feel better.

I gritted my teeth and stuck my nose up. I would help make Arthur feel better even if the smell of sick made me feel sick. Someone had to do it! And one day I would be Queen and I would have to be strong then so I would start now. I was a big girl now; I could do it!

I moved towards Arthur crinkling my nose at the smell. He had been sick more than once. His eyes were glazed and his face was really white. His head turned slowly and he looked at me. He looked unhappy. Like my puppy when he got left out in the rain. His big green eyes were sad and a frown covered his face.

I straightened myself and moved towards him again wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his sweaty neck. All the yelling and shouting stopped. I pulled my face out turning to look at everyone while keeping my arms as much as I could around Arthur. I felt nervous with everyone staring like I had done something wrong. I was right this time. I stiffened my shoulders like I had seen Arthur do before he did something he didn't want to.

"Why aren't you helping him? He's sick!" I lost whatever it was big and mighty I wanted to say. "And I'm a big girl now. I'll help Arthur feel better." I turned my head looking at Arthur's chest as he was breathing in and out.

My grandma let out a little laugh as Angus spoke. "Of course you can sweetie. You're the best thing for Arthur right now." He leaned down placing a hand on my head as I looked at him. "You're right. We'll put Arthur to bed then finish our conversations. Are you going to help me, since you're taking care of him?" I nodded my head feeling like I was missing something. Angus picked Arthur up like he was a baby and carried him out of the room. I followed him down the hall to Arthur's room. I jumped up pulling back the covers so Arthur could be laid down. Crawling on to the bed I began pushing the covers around his body like mum did for me. Angus laughed a little before he started to help.

"All right he's all yours now." He rubbed the top of my head. Arthur watched us through a crack in his eye. Angus left.

"You'll be all better in the morning. " I kissed his check like mum did for me and curled but beside him.

"Thank you." He mumbled as he and I went to sleep.

**Please review… **


	3. Gathering Nations

**First off I don't own hetalia and it's a good thing since I base the Isle Brothers off of my mom and her four older sisters. (My poor beta I dragged her to a Christmas Party where One of my Aunts basically asked her who the f… she was)**

**This quick update is for missnoodlechan! Thanks for the review! **

**Bran's P.O.V**

I hugged my knees to my chest as the vehicle pulled to a stop. I really had no idea what was going on. It wasn't the first time someone had suggested country personifications existed. This was just the first time the information had spread like wildfire and people believed it. I took a deep breath and let it out through my nose. From what the MI6 agent had told me, Angus and Paddy were being picked up and were meeting us as well.

I wiggled my toes in the thick rubber of my boots. I hope someone would feed my ducks, but I had that feeling my ducks would be the least of my troubles.

"England looks identical to you, correct? The guys weren't joking with me and gave me a double picture of you." The thickly muscled intimidating agent looked at me over his sunglasses as he spoke. I made myself look smaller in the back seat. It would give me a better position to spring from if need be.

"Yes we're identical twins." I responded. "And Sasana hasn't been dyeing his hair since the 80's." The agent frowned at me when I didn't use England's name in English. He could suck it as far as I was concerned. It also let me know my darling younger twin wasn't behind my random abduction. Overly buff agent and the driving agent shared a nod before overly buff went into the building.

It was a children's center. I was pretty sure Arthur had mentioned something about helping to repaint some of the rooms but I really hadn't been listening to him that day. I twiddled my thumbs for a bit before looking at the driving agent in the review mirror with a hopeful smile. He proceeded to glare at me with a crinkled forehead behind his thick lenses. I cowered farther into my seat. I hope this didn't take long.

People started to run from the building before the fire alarm sounded. I guess Arthur decided not to come quietly or easily for that matter. There was a sound of breaking glass and a body fell from a second story window. The flying body didn't get back up and remained as it had fallen on the ground. It was much too small to be the buff agent. I frowned in concern as driving agent picked up his gun. I didn't like this and the alarm bells were ringing loud in my head.

The buff agent came out of the building limping severely with his nice white buttoned up shirt stained red. His jacket ripped in several places and his glasses horribly smashed with one of the lenses completely missing. He limped to the unmoving figure on the ground before leaning over to look at it. Seemingly satisfied with what he'd seen, he picked up the figure holding it away from his body. Messy blonde hair hid the face of my twin who from his limp form was unconscious. The agent spat on the ground before making his way to the car with my younger brother.

He rested my sibling's limp form against him as he pulled open the side door for the back seat and deposited him in a sitting position onto it. He pulled the seat belt down and with a click had Arthur fastened in. Grumbling he sat himself in his own seat before putting on his belt; he looked forward and grunted. I guess grunt meant go and the car pulled away slowly.

I looked over at my unconscious twin. Blood dripped down his face from his hair line and there were scratches on his cheek and nose. His lower lip was split while he had a nasty shiner on his temple. It was probably the blow that knocked him out. He was wearing a pair of dark colored skinny jeans and some ratty old converse. His shirt had at one time been white and was old as well as baggy. Paint in a plethora of colors was splattered over it.

The trip continued in silence until we hit the motorway where Arthur decided to rejoin the living. He gave a slight groan moving his head back to the head rest and taking a few deep breaths of air. Now that I think about it, his breathing had been rather funny before. He must have bruised or broken some ribs with that fall. Slowly, green orbs opened as Arthur groggily looked at his surroundings before letting his eyes settle on me. He made a hissing sound as he tried to move his shoulders, but in the end just settled for letting his head loll towards me.

"I don't know what's going on either." I informed him. He groaned again. "No one has told me anything. All I know is that agent buff, that's the guy who knocked you out, and driving agent don't take kindly to me singing Katy Perry." That got a smile out of my twins split lips. He tentatively stuck his tongue out giving them a swipe as he winced.

"Which song?" His voice was raspy.

"The Humming bird song." I smiled back.

"Agent wanker wouldn't be able to appreciate it, being a virgin and all." He snickered giving me his cocky smirk and rolled his shoulders. Agent buff stiffened in the front seat.

"Quiet" he snapped at us.

"Make me bitch!" Arthur shot back with a growl showing some of his bloodied teeth. "Or do you want to go again?" he moved back in a cocky manor. "I doubt there's a fire extinguisher readily available in the car." Agent buff didn't respond staring straight ahead.

"John!" Driving agent spoke up. "You hit him with a fire extinguisher! We were supposed to bring them to the press conference not beat the shit out of one of them." Agent buff's shoulders slumped slightly. "I thought you threw him out the window to escape the fire not that the fire alarms went off because of you!" Driving agent continued. Agent buff, whose name is John, cowered a bit.

I started to laugh out loud. Both agents and my sibling gave me that "you've lost it" look. I gained control of my giggles before talking to them again. "You remind me of some of my nephews." I smiled. "There's a set of twins as well and the quiet one always knows how to bring the louder one down when he gets annoyed enough." I smiled brightly. Arthur snorting besides me as a smile covered his lips. The rest of the drive continued once again in silence, but at least this time it wasn't awkward silence.

The car pulled off the street and into an underground parking lot. The car stopped moving and someone instantly opened England's car door. Hands shot into the car pulling Arthur none-too-gently from the car. He gave a hiss of pain and started struggling against the hands holding them.

My door flew open and suddenly there were hands on me as well tugging at my clothes and pulling at my hair. I heard a cry of pain, too deep in pitch to be Arthur, then my brother's voice yelling profanities enough to make a sailor blush.

"Calm down," a voice spoke up from my behind me. Arms wrapped around me and held me still. The smell of the highlands surrounded me and I relaxed in my eldest brothers arms.

I looked over to Arthur to see what poor soul was trying to hold him back. His arms were held back by a new bulky agent; in front of him stood a twiggy red-headed teen. Patrick's hands were placed on either side of Arthur's face. The two of them were face to face both holding eye contact. It was rather comical you could tell Arthur had been mid-rant and mid-swing. Patrick seemed to be working "I'm your favorite younger brother and you love me the most" charm to keep Arthur from taking people out.

"Good, I'm glad you're all here." A female voice spoke up. It was almost instantaneous. Everyone turned to face the owner of the voice and bow.

"Your Majesty," Arthur's voice was a whisper. Yet it was the only sound in the room. My siblings and I bowed out of respect, but we had righted ourselves much earlier. In front of us stood our Queen. She gave us a gentle smile and Paddy a little wink which made the poor boy turn red despite the fact she looked old enough to be his grandmother.

"Oh Arthur, what have you done to yourself?" she shook her head at him softly. Arthur scuffed the floor with his shoes the tips of his ears turning red in embarrassment.

"Oh my gosh! This is one of the most prominent moments in history and our personification looks like a pre-teen mess." The princess spoke up from besides the Queen. Arthur gave a tuck of his head but he refused to bow to her. The two of them hadn't gotten along since she started to date her husband. Both Angus and I were dreading the day they took the throne. All hell would break loose with no one to control my younger twin.

"You need to calm yourself. It's just clothing and it can be fixed. Besides he needs to look approachable, not like he was made from something untouchable." The Queen spoke softly yet she held her firm tone. Arthur flashed her a brief smile before turning back to glare at her daughter.

"He's a runt; we're not going to have anything to fit him that's not going to take time to get. The news conference starts in ten minutes." She was going to over stress everyone if she kept going.

"There's a simple solution to the problem. Angus, would you be kind enough to give your shirt to Arthur. John be a dear, Roger keeps a spare suit coat and shirt in his office. Fetch it for Angus please." John, who is still bulky agent, stood up and made another quick bow before taking off down a hallway.

"Now then Arthur, what happened to you, my dear? Did you run from the agents and get hit by a car?" She had moved over to Arthur moving a hand up to the edge of Arthur's face.

"It was more of a fire extinguisher than a car. And then being thrown from a second story window." Arthur dead-panned looking off to where John had ran off too.

"Arthur!" she gasped looking at him wide eyed.

"It was rather cool." I chirped up. "Bulky Agent went to go get Arthur out of the children's center." She turned to look at Arthur. He mumbled something about volunteering his time before I continued. "It took a few minutes before the fire alarms went off and people began fleeing from the building. Then suddenly there was a crash and Arthur came flying out of a window. He did an awesome bounce off the ground, but he didn't get back up… Anyway Agent Bulky picked him up and buckled him into the car, and now here we are." I chirped with a smile. The Queen graced me with a smile.

"Well then it sounds like you boys have already had an adventure today. Hurry up and change now we don't want anyone having a stroke." Arthur stripped off his tee shirt taking Angus's button up shirt. Before he could put it on a female agent grabbed his shoulder leaning him over and running a cup full of water though his hair washing out the dried blood. The shirt was too big and if he wasn't my younger twin would have been adorably big on him.

John handed Angus a button up shirt and a black sport jacket. The shirt was way big on Angus but the sports jacket hid it and made him look rather nice. Or at least that's what Patrick had giggled before getting popped in the back of his head.

**So… hit that little review button…or start typing in the review box and let me know what'cha think.**

**Oh and give praise to my poor abused beta and checkout her story Lady Liberty (the one with Evelyn!)**


	4. A Moment of Clarity

**First I do not own hetalia or England would be able to swim. Second I'm sorry this chapter is less than a thousand words. Third of all thanks to my beta (check out her stuff).**

**Many thanks to missnoodlechan and hana97! You're my heros!**

**Arthur's P.O.V.**

I was wearing one of Angus's shirts after the Crown Princess was kind enough to point out I look like shit. Of course, my darling older twin had to tell what had happened. Sad thing was, he wasn't there for half of it. I was winning before the son of a bitch hit me with the fire extinguisher—twice!—and I was on my way back up before he threw me out the window! What a sore loser!

I looked over to Angus who was putting on the sport jacket with the shirt that was borrowed. It looked rather nice on him. I put my hand to my forehead as the room started to spin a bit. I was pretty sure it was actually the nation making me dizzy by all the indications, but I wasn't sure what they were indecisive about.

A female agent had me bend forward after I had taken off my shirt. The cool water felt wonderful on my head. I had originally thought the pain was from being hit in the head with the fire extinguisher and the fall, but it was getting worse the closer this telecommunication conference was coming. Her fingers felt wonderful through my hair and I'm glad people had started moving again or someone may have heard my silent groan. She finished removing the dried blood from my head and I stood up. I gave a shake of my head like a dog since there was no towel. Patrick laughed like when he was little as the droplets hit him.

I put on the shirt; Patrick and the female agent straightening it on me. The dizziness was starting to make me nauseous. Paddy said something to Angus which got him hit in the back of the head, but I am grateful to the boy. He seemed to sense something was wrong with me. He gave me a gentle smile before letting his cheek touch mine for a second in comfort. He took the crock of my elbow and led me behind my other siblings and my Queen. I could hear the Crowned Bitch babbling but I couldn't bring myself to care through the dizziness I was feeling.

I was led to a stage where I stood to the right of and behind my Queen. It was rather weird for the Queen to give this talk to the nation (not me). Patrick stood close enough to me for me to feel the heat from his arm. It was rather comforting.

"My fellow countrymen," the Queen's voice began soothing my nerves. I just couldn't focus. The dizziness seemed to move in waves. I'm not sure really what was going on around me; my vision had whited out so it felt I was in a fog which was rather different from a black out, but still weird. Patrick's body heat was the only thing letting me know where to stand and not to move. There was a sudden clarity somewhere in the Queen's speech.

"This seemingly young man is Arthur Kirkland. He is the personification of my dear England and the acting representative of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland."

I was suddenly hyper aware of myself as the entire nation's attention turned to me. I had a moment of clarity standing up on the stage. I looked out past the podium and past my lovely queen. I looked at the crowd suddenly finding myself frozen in fear. Here I was, the personification of England and the acting representative of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, and I was terrified with stage fright! Mind you, I was in front of a crowed of my countrymen.

I had stood beside some of my country's greatest leaders while they gave speeches all the time. I stood beside Churchill during World War II. I'd charged with my men against much scarier and intimidating foes than teenagers with bubble gum popped on their face. I must have started to shiver because Patrick grabbed my arm and held me still. The white fog rolled back over my vision and with it my nausea increased.

"I ask that your stand beside all the nations of the United Kingdom and that we defend them as they have defended our ancestors, our sisters and brothers, our mothers and fathers." My Queen's voice cut through my fog. Patrick held my arm and pulled me along slowly. We stopped briefly but my nausea was increasing. I attempted to keep my face straight but I'm rather unsure of what I managed. I felt a hand touch the top of my head slightly before someone started to usher me in another direction. I heard Paddy's voice, but they were moving me too fast.

It happened before I could stop it. I felt what I had eaten this morning come up.

"Arthur," I was half way positive it was Angus I had been sick on but I was rather sure he was exasperated about it. I really didn't care; the dizziness had increased tenfold. I felt hands grab me under my arms and move me. Today was a really shitty day.

**Please review… or at least go read and review on I Spy Deceit that poor story… my beta is the one review…**


	5. Illness with a dose of Petty Revenge

**First of all I don't own hetalia or all the Isle brothers would obviously be boys. Second of all I do not Own Lady Gaga, let's face it, that would be weird. Third of all I would like to point out the time. Lady Gaga is considered old music. My Queen is completely fictional and is not meant to be Queen Elizabeth nor her successor but this fic takes place after their reign. Forth thanks to my awesome beta.**

**This chapter is once again for missnoodlechan along with Myrna Maeve!**

**Angus P.O.V.**

I could tell the runt had been acting weird, but I hadn't expected him to be sick at my feet. I'm rather grateful he missed them, but it was still gross. We were still being ushered off stage and I'm not sure anyone realized what was happening with Arthur. I looped my arms under the Brat's and half walked him, half carried him off the stage. There was more bustling before we were pushed into cars. Pads had managed to maintain the hold on Arthur he had had since the Queen ushered us forwards. His face was pale as he looked closely at Arthur.

"Is he going to be alright?"

"It's the nation's indecision." Bran spoke up. "If you feel for it you could feel it too. Arthur's buffering the feelings now. But I still feel like being sick." Bran let his head flop down on the seat.

"That twin thing must suck," Pads said looking at him. Arthur made a rather pathetic groaning sound and I couldn't help pulling him a little closer to my body and holding him tightly. So we didn't get along on the best of days, but he was still my little brother and was doing a hell of a job buffering our nations' reactions. I could feel a little of it myself it was coming through so strong.

Arthur gave a little whimper before huddling against me. The door opened and the Bitch slid in. I don't care if she's next in line for the throne, it doesn't mean I have to like her. Bran gave a rather pathetic moan as the atmosphere in the limo turned hostile. Patrick deliberately moved, sitting between the bitch and myself acting as a buffer while I held Arthur.

"What's wrong with him?" It was almost too snappy to be a question and was lacking in any form of concern.

"He doesn't feel well." Patrick snorted back in that duh way only teenagers can accomplish. I smiled relaxing back into the seat Arthur moving with me as he huddle in my side. I'd let what could be the most annoying thing on the world distract her, a teenager, but not just any type of teenager—a teenage nation. They spent more time as a teenager thus granting them the ability to be annoying little buggers for much longer than a human teenager. Arthur groaned into my shoulder; I could fell heat radiating from his forehead. I moved closer to the window before leaning Arthur's forehead on the glass. He gave a rather appreciative sigh and remained silent and unmoving. He must really feel like shit to not bitch about anything. Speaking of bitching:

"He puked at the press conference! I just hope none of the cameras present saw it." The she-devil continued in her nerve grating tone mainly about Arthur. She didn't like him, as a person or as the representative of the country. Oh don't get me wrong, when she was a little girl she had adored him, like a majority of little kids do, but not now, ever since her husband had come into the picture their relationship had turned sour. Her knight in shining aluminum armor hid behind her like the coward he was. Arthur, being a gentleman and all, wouldn't do anything to her or allow us to as long as her mother was his Queen and alive. I grumbled a bit at my thoughts.

"Hey Jack," Bran chirped to the limo driver through the little window with an overly innocent look covering his face. Basically, he was about to cause shit that couldn't officially be his fault. "Will you play some Lady Gaga for me?" He threw in a kicked puppy look that Jack would never be able to turn down. Poor Jack having to put up with all of us. I wonder whose turn it was to slip his very generous Christmas bonus into the budget this year. Hopefully it wasn't mine. Jack was our normal driver and had fetched Paddy and myself earlier today which from the sounds of it was a lot less eventful than the twins' trip.

The sound of Bad Romance filled the cab. I hid a grin; Jack was always on our side and the first person we called when all of us were in jail. He didn't tattle to the Queen on us like the Prime Minister. I would be sad to see him go. He was getting up there in years.

"Turn it up!" Patrick chirped. The volume increased just as the Crowned Bitch began to protest. Too bad Jack's hard of hearing, or pretended to be, I wasn't really sure. I smiled at Bran. It was such a horrible thing, the memory loss that came with old age in humans. Jack could always say he didn't remember the Crown bitch hated Lady Gaga with a passion. Jack's favorite thing was to remind us to use what we had; Bran's innocent look, Patrick's annoyance, Arthur's pyro tendencies. Jack wasn't a good influence for us brothers.

I felt Arthur hum a few bars of the tune as he moved his forehead back to the crook of my neck. His color was starting to come back and his humming told me he was distracting himself with the music; a useful trick he had picked up with the Romans.

"Feeling better?" I questioned near his ear so he could hear me over the request in the car.

"Physically, no. Emotionally, loads." I felt him smile through my shirt. Hey, none of us brothers were above petty revenge as Francis had found out several times. He could also witness the fact that we were unbeatable at it when we worked together, and the Crowned Bitch was our target.

**Patrick's P.O.V.**

Arthur was still pale as he rested in Alba's arms. I liked it best when my older siblings got along. I knew there was a lot of bad blood between them but they had been working on it and were coming around slowly. Very slowly. They actually work well against a common foe i.e. the Wicked Witch of the Royal family, Francis and the Common Wealth at times. Bran had started singing rather off key as Poker Face started to play. The Wicked Witched was gritting her teeth.

She gave me a seething glare which I ignored especially after living with Arthur who did it much better. Silly mortal you know better than to get in a car with us. I gave her a smile with teeth. Arthur had the hint of a smile on his lips as he breathed softly against Alba. I think he may have been humming as well.

Arthur wiggled as Government Hooker came on and moved to sit next to Bran. The two of them shared an identical shit eating grin before they both burst into song. I hope he's feeling better and not just distracting himself from his pain. He's regained a little color; they do say laughter is the best medicine. I joined in on the second chorus being sure to sing loudly off key in the Witch's ear. She gritted her teeth harder. I snickered at her.

The limo came to a stop, the doors were opened and we were being ushered again. Arthur started to turn green again—he had been distracting himself from the pain—as we were taken into one of the sitting rooms. Arthur's legs went to give out as Bran lunged for a vase. He dumped the flowers on the flower before putting it under Arthurs face as he was sick again. I hated it when my brothers hid from their pain. I understood in days of old weakness could get nations killed, but things had changed.

The witch's husband was yelling along with the witch herself. The Queen was holding her own against the two of them and the Prime Minister was getting his two cents in too, but for the most part was getting deflected.

"I am not cleaning that up." Bran's voice spoke up. He looked a little pale now.

"We could just get rid of the vase." I throw in. My siblings, all of them were major pack rats.

"No," Alba whined. "That's from my people we aren't throwing it away! Later I would look back and wonder who was hanging onto Arthur, but at the moment I could care less.

I turned for a second to look at the others. They were still yelling over the Queen's speech. Fat good it would do them considering it was already out there now. I was rather happy she stood up for us. A frown fell over my face. If what the Prime Minister was saying was true the United Kingdom was the only country to stand up for the personifications. The other countries hadn't given a positive or a negative to theirs. I wonder how Shamus is holding up.

I turned back to Bran and Alba who were still arguing over the vase's importance to the universe. That's when the little girl moved. The room silenced as she did. Wrapping her arms around Arthur in a hug, she pulled her face out of his neck without moving her arms. She gave all of us a look that was much too old for her few years. She would be an amazing Queen one day. I smiled at the thought. She straightened herself like Arthur did and I caught a glimpse of Angus smiling.

"Why weren't you helping him? He's sick!" she accused us. She shrank back again before continuing in a way closer to her age. "And I'm a big girl now. I'll help Arthur feel better." The Queen gave a little laugh into her glove, but it was Angus who spoke.

"Of course you can sweetie. You're the best thing for Arthur right now." He leaned over to her placing a hand on her head. Alba was right. A nation's people were the best and worst thing for them; children tending to be the best and most forgiving. It also helped that Arthur loved children and they loved him. "You're right. We'll put Arthur to bed then finish our conversations. Are you going to help me since you're taking care of him?" She nodded at him as he pulled away softly. He lifted Arthur who was all but unconscious into the air and moved out of the room, but not without meeting Bran's eyes. It was instructions, simple ones, to keep a hold of what was going on in this room and to defend the Queen.

Bran and I turned to face the other occupants of the rooms. I felt the same feeling I use to get on the battlefield. Things were going to get messy and I couldn't help but shudder at the thought that this may be the last peace we had for a long while. Bran caught my eye, flashing me a smile before turning back to the others in the room. Politics was Bran's strong point and so I felt myself relax as I followed the pro into battle.

**Please review…**


	6. A Brief Moment of Safety

**First off I don't own hetalia and it's a good thing since I mix up culture traits at times. Second I'm sorry this is short. Third I can't promise this will be the last time you get the same scene in multiple views, but things will start to pick up and progress faster after this. Forth I have been informed Shamus is not eh proper way to spell Seamus but I like it and unless it irritates several of you it shall remain.**

**Special thanks to my heroes!**

**Missnoodlechan, I hope you enjoy your preview**

**Hana97, Thanks for the multiple reviews **

**Grimmjow J, here's your new chapter and a new character… but not really I did say it was the isle brothers ;)**

**Bran's POV**

Alba carried Arthur out of the room. The Sweet Heart of the Royal Family trailing at his heals. I really was looking forward to a time when she would be on the throne.

"It doesn't change the fact that you should have waited." The Prime Minister jumped back into the argument, hoping to gain the advantage while others may have lost their train of thought. It was a rookie tactic, teenagers were pros at it. The whole pettiness of it made me feel rather loved as a nation in the most sarcastic sense possible. My brothers and I were expendable in his world. I shuddered a bit. Paddy gave me a curious look and I shrugged him off. This would be easier with Alba at my side then Patrick, but I knew the political world and could play when need be. And I knew better than to underestimate a teenager's resourcefulness.

"Just because none of the other countries have stood in favor of the personifications doesn't mean they will not." I interjected into the conversation. Paddy made a sound of agreement beside me.

"Bran's got a point. America hasn't had a statement yet and neither has Russia or China. And with the favor of the Queen hopefully more of the Common Wealth will side with the Personifications." Patrick chirped up before I could speak.

"I hate to disappoint you, but the United States of America has made a speech." Patrick and I looked rather wide eyed at the Prime Minister. I really didn't like this one. Too… wimpy.

"Yes," The Crowned Bitch spoke up. "If someone would have listened to me we would not have made a speech at the same time as the United States! We should have waited to hear what our allies were doing first."

"This all sounds rather pointless unless we know what they decided." Paddy spoke up sounding rather bored. Somehow during this friendly little chit chat we had moved to the Queen's sides flanking her.

"Well you know the Americans." The Crowned Bitch's husband spoke up. I rather… well dislike is too soft of a word… detested is a much better word. "They thanked a bunch of people, talked in circles and avoided the question for the most part. In the end, the Government said they'll wait to hear from the UN, like we should have done." He half way sneered at us.

"Glad to know I haven't missed anything." A familiar lilt sounded behind me.

"Shamus!" Patrick chirped pale green eyes lighting up and a smile covering his face. He left his guard post at the Queen's side to bounce over to our second oldest brother.

"Ireland," The Crowned Bitch exclaimed. I think I should wave good bye to any positive international affairs between the United Kingdom and Ireland if she keeps the attitude up.

"Dear you look exhausted." I love our Queen. I love her, I love her, I Love Her! Paddy's arm had already wrapped around Shamus. Shamus shoulders slumped as he rested on Patrick. Shamus's boss cleared his throat letting us know he was in the room.

"We need to talk." His no-nonsense tone brought a chill to the air and ended the happiness at Shamus's visit.

"And we will talk, but first let's put Shamus to bed. Arthur's already in one of the guest rooms." My Queen spoke up. Her concern was clearly on Shamus and not the politics at hand. She caught my eye looking down and back up. It was very subtle and in the commotion no one would notice, but it was my cue that the kiddy gloves could come off.

"I can feel him." Shamus spoke up pulling himself away from Patrick's body. "I'll just stop in and say hello to him." He turned to move out of the room.

"He would like that." The Queen spoke softly gently touching Shamus's forearm. He paused for a moment looking at her. It had never mattered to her that he was an independent country and not part of the U.K. She mothered us all. Shamus tilted his head softly and kissed her cheek for a second.

"I should have visited earlier like you asked." He murmured to her.

"Nonsense, it's not the end of the world. Now scoot." She swatted at his bottom like we were little children in trouble. "Arthur has a very pretty young lady looking after him that will take a look at you too." She smiled softly and Shamus stumbled out of the room. Shamus's boss watched him leave turning to look at Paddy and me. He nodded gently at us before diligently flanking Paddy. I wasn't positive yet if he was using Paddy for a shield or was going to defend Paddy like he was Ireland himself.

**Shamus's P.O.V.**

Alba held me around my middle as my arm rested over his shoulder. He hadn't said anything to me just took my arm and began leading me to where I could feel my younger little brother.

"Things are looking bad." His voice was gruff. It got that way when he was worried and trying to hide it. But then again it only happened with me. We were the oldest after all.

"We've been in worse." He didn't look at me but continued forward.

"Yes, but with better leaders. The Queen is the best we have and she is old. I have the feeling that the events of today will haunt us for years after."

"You're being pessimistic." I informed him. "I have the same feeling. It comes with being old, but we have to have faith. Good leaders aren't found and elected; they're made and then loved." I spoke up. I don't know if he was thinking of Churchill, but he's who had come to mind. I made a face and blamed England's soil for the non- Irish man that came to mind, though I did have a soft spot for Churchill too.

"We're setting ourselves up for war. You know as well as I do that the bureaucrats at the UN are not going to side with the nations. We are a threat to their wealth and power."

"And you are right, but we can always have hope in our people. It may take them a few years but they should come around to the right thing."

"How long will that take?!" Alba snapped turning to face me.

"Not long," A voice croaked from the bed. I hadn't even realized we had made it to the room. I could feel my nation sense of Arthur dissipating. I wasn't really sure how it worked, but I guess it figured if I could see him I didn't need to feel him too.

Sasana looked like hell. Not quite anything near what he looked like from the Blitz, but still like he had been thrown from a window and hit by a lorry.

"Can't you feel it?" Arthur's voice was raspy. He was sitting up in the bed, his eyes an eerie green as he looked at us. But his eyes were focused beyond us, not quite looking at the here and now. In his lap lay the Queen's granddaughter Arthur's hand gently stroking though the light brown strands. Alba froze not moving at seeing Arthur acting liked a possessed victim from one of America's horror movies.

"Her Majesty didn't tell me you were possessed." I snickered at him. His green eyes blinked and turned emerald again. He looked, really looked, at us and a soft smile covered his face.

"Shamus!" He held an arm out for me to hug him.

"Scoot your boot." I told him moving to the bed. I sat in the free area he had made kicking off my shoes and sliding my feet under the covers next to him. He easily slid into the nook between my arm and shoulder. We both settled in the bed together. I sighed out deeply then letting the calm of the little sleeping child overcome me. I was safe for now and I now know my brothers are safe too. I let sleep carry me away.


	7. The Secret Agreement

**First I don't own hetalia. Second I'm not sure I'm how much longer I'm going to write this. I'm rather depressed with it actually. To my lovely beta who I now know creepers in to my stories to see what I'm writing in my Authors notes I'm sorry for making you read the depressing story and ill work on the hero one you like more.**

**Missnoodlechan, Hana97 this chapter if for you and maybe the next few that are pre written will be posted for you too.**

**Bran POV**

The UN meeting was scheduled for the end of the week. I guess they could have put some forethought to it and actually met on a Monday giving them the whole week to decide what to do. Some days I hate bureaucracy.

The Queen has grounded us, or placed us under house arrest, at Buckingham Palace. Something about keeping track of all of us. Really I don't have a problem with it. Right now this is the safest place for us all to be. No one would dare, I guess a better way would be no upstanding citizen of the United Kingdom would make a move against us while the Queen was here.

Shamus has been stuck with us and several rooms have been, redecorated… in between Shamus and Patrick fights, Shamus and Arthur fights, Arthur and Angus fights and mine and Arthur's boredom. That may be why we were grounded to one wing of the palace now that I think of it. Originally we had been allowed to wander the grounds. I had thought we had been corralled to one wing for our protection, but now that I think of it, it was to minimize damages.

I took a drink of my tea as I let the rare sunlight spill over me form the window. I had dragged a nice high back chair over so I could stare out at the world as it passed by. Surprisingly, it was quiet. No random yelling from my siblings, no sounds of things breaking or running feet. It was rather nice.

"Ar…," the voice trailed off as I turned to look at the speaker. "Bran, darling, just who I was looking for," She graced me with a light smile and I felt a grin lighting up my face.

"My dearest Queen," I stood sweeping before her to drop a kiss to the back of her hand, "How may I be of service for you today?" I flashed her a cocky look that I had perfected but Arthur used quite frequently. She moved her hand from me taking the seat I had occupied previously. She sighed softly as she sat.

"From the stories I've heard, you're rather shrewd when it comes to politics." She looked at me with the same light smile. My natural intuition as a country wanted me to spring about in a merry way and promise her anything I, the country of Wales, and me, Bran, could do for her. My age kept me in check. I gave her a rather quizzical innocent look I had perfected while blaming Arthur for shite I had done to our siblings.

"Oh come now pull up a chair and don't play these games with me Bran. I know Arthur's the sword just as much as you're the pen." I scrunched my nose and retrieved another high back chair pulling it so we were sitting across from one another. Once I was seated, she started talking again.

"I'd like to discuss strategies with you, normally I would run things by Arthur if not the Prime Minister, but no one seems to understand how important the personifications are to a nation." I cocked my head fixing my face in a blank look that told her I was listening and nothing more.

"I'm old Bran; I can feel it in my bones. There's no doubt in my mind that my daughter doesn't control the respect from Arthur she needs to keep him under wraps. I believe it would be best to have a failsafe in plan to gain public sympathy." I nodded to her to let her know I understood. "Originally I had been just thinking about you boys." I grinned at her as she made eye contact with me before turning to look out the window. "But that didn't sit right with me." I squinted my eyes slightly in confusion. Where was she going with this? "We are an island, Bran, and I will not have you boys bullied because we did the right thing as a people. What I propose is this, lets leak images of the nations to the public. Images at their best, images at their worst," I smiled a smile harkening back to the days of empire.

"So we're going to sway public interest, my dear?" I knew my eyes were gleaming in that eerie way most everyone had only seen Arthur's ever do. "That's not very heroic." My voice had taken on the old tone of me patronizing someone, but I didn't care. Arthur had a bad rap for not being the kindest in his empire days. With me at the forefront of politics, my hands weren't clean either.

"I feel the time for full-out heroics are past." She gave me a coy smile and I felt my stomach tingle with excitement. "The people need to see what a nation does, how the nation affects them." I nodded at her taking a sip form my magically reappeared tea cup. "I would like to start with Arthur, some of the images of him at the Blitz." I froze setting a hard look at her. "That's why I came to you, Arthur won't like his weakness being flaunted to the world, but he will accept it." Her voice took a firm tint and she was about to give me a command. "I need you to find more instances. The American's have one of Alfred at the World Trade Center when the towers fell. Find Japan after Hiroshima. We're going to air everyone's dirty laundry and we are going to have it done before Friday." She stood looking down at me in my chair. "I'm counting on you Bran."

"You have nothing to fear, my dearest Queen." I kissed her hand again without standing. She reached out the hand resting it on the top of my head and I turned into it like a cat eager for affection. "Arthur will be hurt." I spoke opening my eyes I didn't realized I had shut at the touch.

"I'll take his temporary pain over something happening to you boys when I'm gone." She turned and walked out of the room. I turned back to the window. _Forgive me dear twin, forgive me Arthur for what I'm going to do. _I took another sip of tea.


	8. Buckingham Palace Day 1

**First of all I do not own Hetalia. Second of all I have the week laid out it needs final adjustments and to be edited then it should be out. Third of all I'm an engineering senior and schools a bitch so I wouldn't hope for more than two updates between now and Christmas. (Though I'll try)**

**You're going to get two POV right now… basically I'm going to try and give you all the events of the day. As I mentioned earlier things should start to move.**

**I would dedicate this chapter to Victims of Terrorist, if there American, one of our Allies, or even our enemies, but I don't think this chapter is enough Justice for them. So Instead I would like everyone who reads this chapter to take a moment and pause (if your religious of any kind, pray) and set off with your goal of the day to do at least one nice thing for a stranger today. You never know how far one act of kindness could go.**

**Angus POV**

It was day two of the UN debate and, if it was up to me, I would shove my foot so far up there bureaucratic arses that someone would have to pull us apart after. Who needed a fucking week to decide the fate of all of us? "Well, we need to look at this from all angles." _Bull shite_. Bull shite and shame on their mothers for raising them that way. What a load of crap! We've been here! We've functioned all this time without the general populous knowing about us; we can continue to work now that they know about us! Fucking bull shite! They don't even have a nation representative among them to speak for us. How's that for a decision without representation America!

I ran my fingers through my shaggy hair. Things were going to hell and it wasn't me being old and paranoid like Shamus kept nagging me about.

I looked at the internet page again. I had hoped that some of the more technologically advanced nations had hacked their UN reps shite, but so far I had found nothing and something horrifying. Pictures had made their way onto the internet. Pictures that had been taboo for nations to share and have seen. Generally it was because us nations were in them and we needed to keep the secret and all, but these pictures were showing things I knew nations feared being shown.

I rubbed my eyes and ran my hands through my hair. Shite, I hope Arthur didn't see these.

The first image showed wheat blonde with bright cerulean eyes. Normally I wanted to bash this particular nation's face in but in this image… I bit my lip; a habit I had out grown when Mother was alive. America, Alfred had a firefighters arm around his neck as the nameless first responder was helped from a cloud of dust. I knew what that cloud was just as the world did. It was the Trade Centers. The image was of Alfred. The nation's personification at the world trade centers the day they fell helping his people. Blood was clearly visible on Alfred's business shirt. The physical injury Alfred received from the damage the nation had suffered. Another person was gripped around his waist, Alfred legitimately carrying them from the wreckage trying to save everyone he could.

The next one was an image I had never seen nor heard anything about. It was from World War II actually showing Germany. Hitler was in the image along with one of those horrid concentration camps. Ludwig was on the ground one hand grasping his chest, the other pulling on the pant leg of his once leader. A dark smoke pillowed from the camp in the image. My mouth had went dry when I first saw it. As a nation, I hadn't thought about what Hitler's campaigns had done to the nation. But here was Ludwig pleading for his people.

Again I ran my hands through my hair. There were images of Japan. Several of them actually. There was two of him after the tsunami. One showing the actual damage done to Kiku himself and the other showing him handing out supplies and helping his people. The other was once again an image from the world wars after the Americans' bombed his lands.

And these didn't even make half the page. It went on and on. I ran my hands through my hair again. I didn't want to be the one to see Arthur after he had seen these.

**Patrick's POV**

"Angus! Alba! Scotland!" I called out while looking under objects Angus couldn't possibly fit. I picked up another candlestick holder looking at the bottom. Made in Cornwall, cool. I leaned over looking under the table thingy in the hallway. I wasn't really sure what they were for, but most of them had fake cabinet doors anyway. Not to mention the hazard they were when running down the halls in the dark.

"Alba," I called again. I wasn't really looking for him. If I was annoying enough he would come to me. That or in this family someone would sacrifice him to me to shut me up. I smiled to myself. "Allllbaaaa!" I called in my whiny voice that annoyed the shite out of Shamus and Arthur; Bran seemed to be immune to it…

"What the fffuu…"

"Angus!" A passing maid scolded. "If I have to remind you one more time about your language, be my nation or not you will eat soap." She waved her finger with a hand on her hip. She was going to be a good mother one day soon.

"Frick do you want?" Angus finished. His angry effect was lost by the average-sized, obviously pregnant maid which made me giggle.

"Gloria! How are you?" I ignored Alba to rile him some more.

"Patrick," she smiled at me. "Don't act like I don't know what you were doing." She fluffed my hair.

"But, but," she gave me a look very close to Arthur's "don't play this game with me" face, but with less intensity so she wasn't really mad. "Shamus was looking for Alba because he wanted to show something to him. Well, I was curious so I went to find out what it was and Shamus had managed to somehow string up Arthur by the back of his pants to the ceiling fan. Bran was causing a racket 'cause he couldn't get Arthur down, because he was too short, so he sent me to find Alba so we can get Arthur down." She blinked at me.

"Did you just say Arthur is strung up by the back of his pants on the ceiling fan?" Alba questioned. I nodded at him.

"I have to see this." He took off down the hall.

"Oh dear, I'll go get maintenance." Gloria sighed walking down the hall.

I bet Alba was going to go laugh at Arthur before actually helping. I wonder if the fan will fall out of the ceiling before they got him down. I looked down the hall where the others had gone. I bet the ceiling fan had already fallen out of the ceiling. I had been "looking" for a while now.

I was curious as to what had kept Alba's attention. I had been told on numerous occurrences and by several reputable people that I was hard to ignore. I poked my head into the dark room that Alba had come from.

The thing that caught my eye was the bluish glow from the computer screen and the crumpled tissues on the keyboard and surroundings. I felt my face drop. My loving older sibling had ignored me for porn… I feel loved.

I walked over to the monitor to look at the screen. Depending on how hot the girls were I may forgive him. I looked at the images blinking in confusion. This wasn't porn. It looked like a blog.

I scrolled through the text pausing at a familiar face in an image—it was Japan! I quickly scrolled to the top of the page looking at the images.

The web page was some sort of American news blog thing that I didn't recognize, but that really didn't matter to me.

The first image on the page was one of America when the World Trade Towers fell. My nose twitched at the picture and I scrolled down quickly. America made me so mad with how he treated Arthur, but I knew that was a trying time…and oh let's face it, I would cry if I looked to closely.

I looked over the lengthy post below it. There was a bunch of posts retelling old stories passed down in the families about people risking their lives for other people. One in particular caught my attention. The blogger had told a story mentioning a blond with blue eyes. Her mother had told her the story laughing about how the blonde with blue eyes never lost his features through the retellings and how America matched the description. Someone had put a link with footage from the event that showed America actually helping people.

I scrolled down to the next image. Another blonde with blue eyes—Germany. Once again, I bypassed the image not wanting to think about the time again and reading the blogs. There was support for the German personification and love given to the personification. One blogger had posted "The Jews love you too Ludwig." I smiled. History said that Germany had turned against the Jews living in the country, but here was the personification pleading for his people. I smiled to myself reading over handed down stories of Germans' saving their Jewish neighbors.

I scrolled back to the image of Japan I had started on. The page extended down farther, a little note at the bottom telling me a new image had been added. I scrolled down freezing at the blank emeralds that looked at the camera. I knew that image. I had lived through Arthur's screams. I stood abruptly moving to flee from the dead look on my brother's face during the Blitz bombing.

I'm not sure what's going on, but someone is leaking personal images of the nation to the world. Damn, if Arthur finds out, there's going to be hell to pay.

**To my reviewers thanks, I'll mention you by name next time, but with the anniversary of 9/11 and everything else going on in the world, I just had to say something…**


	9. Buckingham Palace Day 2

**First of all I don't own hetalia. Second if you get pulled over by a cop in a state (Kentucky) and you're driving a car with a (Missouri) license plate on the car and an (Illinois) driver's license and the whole reason your there is to drop off kittens to your room mates mom because your landlord won't let you have them any more…**

**Lie don't tell the truth because the truth sounds like a lie. Especially when you add on the Disney on Ice show…. I had a fun weekend…**

_**Summer Leigh Wind**_** hope you think this story stays interesting.**

_**Mochirisu**_** I did look up your song. I agree it matches the stuff up till now. I actually listen to a lot of Rise Against while I write. (Oh and feel free to let me know if I make the brothers too americanish.)**

_**GlitterDustKJ **_**thanks hun, I at least have the week pre written.**

_**Hana97, Missnoodlechan**_**, you two are the light in my day I look forward to your reviews probably as much as you look for the chapers!**

**Arthur POV**

I stalked angrily up and down the hallway of the wing we had been confined to. Someone had leaked images of me on the internet; images I'd rather forget. They showed me being terribly weak. It was a weakness I swore I would never let my people suffer again.

Patrick was crouched on top of a table, his celery colored eyes watching me as I stalked up and down the hall. He didn't say anything; he didn't want to receive my misguided wrath.

I stopped in front of him absolutely livid. He shrank away from me before leaning closer to me as my eyes didn't leave his form.

"Dearest, Patrick. My sweet Paddy," I cooed reaching out a hand to him. He froze starting at it as I reached for him, but did not shrink away from me again. My hand gently rested on the side of his face my pointer finger playing with the soft fringe in front of his ear. He shut his eyes and leaned into my hand after a second of staring. I smirked, my eyes going wild. My fingers curled and before he could move I had a fist full of his orange locks forcibly sliding him across the table top towards me with my grip on his hair.

He gave a whimper of pain as a shiver of fear went up his spine. I pulled him until the top half of his body was leaning over the edge of the table, his crossed legs just barely sitting on the edge. His boney shoulder connected to my torso just below my shoulder as I angled his face downwards and his ear towards my mouth.

"Tell me sweet Patrick, you didn't betray me? Did you, love?" I would make the one who made me look weak suffer in ways I hadn't done since my empire. Patrick quivered in my grip and I could feel the gulp at his nerves; I relished in it.

"Arthur, you're hurting me." He whispered softly another whimper leaving his mouth. I froze my grip in his hair slacking. What was I doing? I had promised not to treat Patrick like my older brothers and myself had treated each other. My hand fully sprung away from Patrick as I half shoved him back onto the table with my other hand.

He turned curious celery green eyes to me as he rubbed the side of his head.

**Patrick POV**

I rubbed the side of my head after Arthur pushed me back onto the table. It had fucking hurt to have him drag me by the hair like that. Mind you, Shamus has done worse in the bad days of old to me, but damn, when you're not expecting a fight, it fucking hurts.

I looked up into Arthur's now horrified emerald eyes. His lips trembled, his stance clearly reading flight, but his green eyes never left me. I smiled at him much more confident now that they weren't the color of nuclear waste. Damn that had been scary.

"Pad…. I'm…" he stumbled tripping over his words as he tried to apologize to me.

"I'm fine Arthur. You scared me more than anything." I smiled at him keeping my voice calm. Bran had told me once before it was overly important to stay calm around Arthur when he was confused. It was way too easy to scare him away or rile him up.

I reached a hesitant hand out to touch him. Touch always seemed to help me when I was afraid. It grounded me to reality. Arthur took a hesitant half step back his green eyes going wider as he looked at my hand.

"Arthur," I whispered. I didn't understand what went through his head at times. Actually all of my older siblings were like this for me. I guess it had to do with being raised in a different era, but I wasn't sure. I looked down at the table surface I had made my temporary seat.

I felt the heat of Arthur's body before I felt his hand hesitantly touch my shoulder. My eyes met with remorseful liquid emerald.

"I'm sorry Patrick, I don't know what came over me." He mumbled looking down at the table surface.

"I already said it's alright." I gave him a cocky grin. "I know you're stressed out," I reached up wrapping my arms loosely around his torso and buried my nose in the familiar hollow of his collar bone. "Being cooped up here isn't helping with anything either. For being a little island nation, you guys sure need a lot of space away from each other for long periods of time so you can have short periods of getting along, huh?" I felt Arthur chuckle at the comment his arms coming over mine to wrap me in a firm hug. I hummed happily at the warmth his frame put off.

"I am sorry, there's no excuse for how I treated you." He mumbled into my hair as he buried his nose there. I squeezed him harder; there was really no point in trying to argue with him. I just hope who ever leaked the pictures knew what they are doing.


	10. Buckingham Palace Day 3

**First off I don't own hetalia second of all I have an interview wish me luck! Third of all Missnoodlechan, Hana97, Scooone I hape you enjoy this chapter I had a blast writing it!**

**Shamus POV **

I watched Sasana move across the room. He'd been acting… off, it was truly the best way to describe it. It wasn't anything major or one thing in particular. More on the lines of several little things that were adding up: some of them were normal things he did just now they were overly obsessive.

The pacing is the most notable. Now Arthur has always been a pacer when he's under a lot of stress. The movement relaxes muscles and lets oxygen flow better, but recently he'd been pacing almost obsessively. It hadn't gotten to the point of muttering to himself so I hadn't stopped him.

The next was an almost OCD tendency. He was a neat freak, especially about his weapons, books and kitchen, but he wasn't OCD. If he was tired or busy he'd let a mess go for days. Lately though he'd been obsessively checking locks: window locks, door locks… it didn't matter. He would make several loops around a room checking the locks. On some days, the vents got the same treatment.

He was getting frustrated a lot easier too, but I had blamed that on us all being cooped up together for so long.

"He's been acting weird." Paddy spoke from beside me. I jumped slightly having not heard him in my observation of the brat. I watched as Arthur violently shook a door handle. I wasn't sure if he was trying to open it or if he was making sure it was locked.

"He's just stressing out from being cooped up for so long." I watched Arthur stop jiggling the handle to glare at it.

"I don't think that's it." Paddy spoke up. "He dragged me across a table top yesterday by a handful of hair." I paused cocking my head and thinking about it. That type of thing wasn't all too unusual for the empire to do. But the modern day England didn't do shit like that, especially to Patrick. Patrick was his baby.

"What do you want to do about it?" Arthur had turned to pulling on the handle of a push door without turning the handle. Maybe Patrick had a point.

"I don't know, take him on a walk," I turned my attention away from my mental sibling and to Patrick's celery green eyes. It irked me how diluted those eyes were. Nothing like the vibrant shades of green us older siblings had. "I mean you know Arthur better so let's say you're right and he's going bonkers from being stuck inside. Maybe he could go outside, I don't know, be seen with the Queen or Prime Minister something." I turned away from Patrick's too diluted eyes to Arthur who was now kicking the door.

**POV ?**

The film footage rolled showing one of the windows of the palace with dark shapes moving behind it. In a flash, glass exploded as a high backed chair came through it. A smallish blonde haired teen jumped out of the window bracing his body on the edge of the frame with his hand in order to land on his feet. No sooner did his feet hit the ground then he was off in a flash blood flipping from his cut hand. Two other early twenties boys jumped through the window in pursuit; these two were taller with black and red hair. Another red head poked his head out through the window before cautiously making his way outside and following the other three.

The blonde teen ran but with the older twos longer legs they were gaining on him. The red head made a grab for the blonde once he was in range. But the blonde came to a completely stop forcing his elbow into the gut of the red head and pivoting on the balls of his toes to punch him in the underside of his jaw with the same arm.

The black haired one grabbed a hold of the blonde's other arm quickly looping it behind his back and forcing the blonde onto his tip toes. The red head righted himself before approaching the blonde from the front. He caught the blonde's foot in his hands as the blonde was forced to arch backward by the black haired one.

The twiggy lighter red head made an appearance carrying what appeared to be the tie back to a large curtain and a belt in his hands. A confused looked crossed his face as the blonde was forced down with his nose being rubbed in the dirt. There was a gesture of hands and the older red head got the belt from the younger kneeling down to the blonde.

He jumped back to his feet suddenly face contorted in pain, mouth furiously spitting out unheard words as he waved his hand around. The blonde gave a vicious sneer form the ground, blood showing lightly on his teeth. The black haired one shoved his nose back into the dirt as the older red head grabbed a hand full of blonde hair forcing the belt around the blonde's neck.

The younger red head offered the tasseled end of the cord to the older one who looped it into the belt before fastening it around the blonde's neck. They froze for a moment heads cocked as if they were listening to something. The black haired one sitting on the blonde's back with the older red head kneeling beside his head.

A different blonde identical to the first came flying into the angle of the film smashing into the black haired one and they rolled across the grass. The blonde on the ground wasted no time and was up smashing the back of his head into the stunned older red head's nose.

The screen went blank as it was turned off. Five sets of eyes moved to the Queen as they all gulped in unison different levels of worry and remorse crossing each similar face.

"As much as it pains me to ask," the Queen rubbed the bridge of her nose sinking down into a seat. "What happened?"

"It's all his fault, if he stopped acting weird…"

"North suggested…"

"Twin in danger…"

"Jumped me…"

"I didn't mean it like that," All the brothers spoke at once their words blending together and nothing much getting through.

"One at a time," she stopped them, hands up in a halt position. "Shamus since you are a guest, you may speak first."

"The brat's been acting weird and I had ignored it until North said something about it, and what he said made sense. He suggested we do something about it. He said it was because the brat had been cooped up inside too long and that we should take him out like a dog."

"That's not what I said! I said maybe he should be seen with the Queen or Prime Minister outside, not to try and put a leash on him and drag him around!"

"That's not what you said dearest, you said to take him on a walk!"

"Enough both of you." The Queen fixed the two Irelands with a firm look that told them to quit speaking.

"Angus, how did you get involved?" She looked at the red head with the broken nose. The swelling was already starting to go down and the blood had long since stopped.

"Eirn came up to me and asked if I had noticed anything off with Arthur. I thought about it for a moment and after our last tiff I had really been avoiding him. Then Paddy spoke up pointing out some weirder than normal shi… stuff he had been doing and suggested we find a way to get him outside. Shamus said he had a plan, but we needed to retrain Arthur for it to work."

"Don't go making this sound like it's my fault, North was all for it. Just because he's the baby and your favorite doesn't mean you should change what happened." Angus stuck his tongue out at his younger sibling.

"Boys that is enough! Arthur, why is there a chair in my front yard?"

"Well I had been double checking the locks of the widows in the sun room when they," he turned to glare at the two red heads and Ireland, "came into the room, they were acting like they were up to something and that's when Shamus took the cord that was holding back the curtains and Angus ripped off his belt. I didn't want to see what they were up to so I went to leave when the traitor," he fixed Patrick with a particularly hard glare, "blocked my exit; he knew I wouldn't intentionally hit him. Anyway, we started to fight and then I needed a way out and glass cuts really hurt…" he trailed off looking sheepishly at the ground.

The queen sighed before looking at Bran. Generally she could count on him to stay out of things like this.

"I felt Arthur panic and went to help. It didn't dawn on me until we were in the grass that it was Shamus I had tackled." He smiled like nothing was wrong.

"And after you realized it was Shamus?"

"He was going to hit me anyway I thought I would make it worth it." His green eyes went huge and watery as he looked at the ground and sniffed.

"You're not falling for that, are you?" Shamus asked blatantly.

**Please review and check out the fic I'm writing with my beta ****Keep Calm and Carry a Nerf Gun**** its set in the same world as my England's Private moments. So My oc Amelia's in it.**


	11. Buckingham Palace Day 4

**First happy Last Thanksgiving, Second I don't own Hetalia, Third Thanks Fyreath, and finally I have a new one shot some of you may want to check out.**

**Patrick POV**

"So, Grandma and Arthur are going to be on the telly?" The sweetheart of the royal family giggled. She was currently flipped over Shamus's shoulder. Her off brown hair hung straight from the top off her head as she attempted to wrap her arms around Shamus's chest only managing to grab onto his shirt. Her legs swung up and down as she laughed.

We were gathered around the telly waiting for the conference to take place. Our initial fight was recorded by some tourist who proceeded to put it on YouTube and that was the film footage the queen had made us watch. Well, someone filmed that little conversation and now it was spreading like wildfire. After the…episode… the queen had decided we would all be grounded. Surprisingly, it was the Crowned Witch who saved us. Once she realized the video had gone viral, she had scrabbled to save the nations' image. So Arthur with the Queen and Prime Minister were at a press conference and, since Arthur's punishment hadn't been instated yet, we were allowed to watch the conference. Then, when Arthur got back, we would all be grounded.

Shamus spun in a circle with the little girl still over his shoulder. Her giggles and childish glee filled his room. He spun around several more times before swinging her bridle style into his arms and falling backwards off the arm of the couch. He let his body fall completely limp on the couch.

"Shamus!" the girl rolled over on top of his stomach. Her eyes twinkling with laughter. I folded my arms on the arm of the chair curling my body so I could rest my head on my arms and watch them. She pushed on his chest a few times and he let his body move with the motion. "Shamus?" She pushed him one more time before her pretty eyes started to well up and that bottom lip came out.

"Paddy!" She cried out looking up at me. "The telly, is something wrong in Ireland?" Her eyes were wide and little tears were starting to spill down her perfectly childishly chubby checks.

"Oh, lassie, don't cry. I'm fine, look I'm fine." Shamus wrapped his arms around her pulling her close to his body resting her head over his heart. I sighed she was so much more mature than she needed to be. She had spent so much time around us brothers she had learned to associate our pain with things going wrong in the country.

"Shamus," she whimpered into his shirt.

"I was just playing," Shamus cooed, "I didn't mean to scare you."

"What's all the water works for? Shamus did you turn something scary on the telly." Angus asked walking into the room making a bee line for the crying little girl. Angus picked the little girl up from his younger sibling. "What happened lassie? Was Shamus being mean? Does he need to be hit upside his noggin?" He cuddled the girl closely to his chest.

"Shamus played dead and scared her." I spoke up lazily from my place on the couch.

"Shamus!" Angus cried back handing the Irishman harshly in the face. Shamus recoiled from the strike as Angus curled the little girl towards his hip and behind himself.

"What the fuck Alba!" Shamus cried, hand on his reddened cheek. My eyes went wide as I felt the edge of tension in the room. I had wanted Shamus to be told off and scolded, not a brawl.

"Guys!" I cried out hoping to get their attention only to be ignored. My two eldest brothers were nose to nose, fists balled, ready to go at it.

"What the hell is going on here!" Bran appeared out of seemingly nowhere as my ears picked up the sounds of crying. In a swoop of motion, Bran was beside the two a handful of differently colored hair in each hand as he physically pulled both brothers down to the side.

"Beth y uffern ydych chi'n meddwl eich bod dau yn cael eu gwneud? Oni allwch weld y difrod yr ydych yn achosi? O rydych yn Lloegr mor ffodus ..." Bran continued in his native language. I heard him calling our brothers stupid something about what they were doing and something about Arthur. I picked up the little girl shushing her softly.

"It'll be all right hun. You know us; this is how we are." I tried comforting her. She gave me a rather hopeless look but at least she could tell I was trying. She rested her head on my chest and I rested my head on hers.

I heard a smacking sound and looked up to Bran's hands being bright red and Shamus and Angus rubbing opposite butt checks.

"They're in trouble." The little girl giggled she looked up at me with a rather cute look.

"Now, you are both going to sit on the couch and not touch each other!" Bran finished grumbling as he made his way over to us.

"Hello sweetie, I'm sorry those brutes scared you." He took her from my arms snuggling his nose into her neck and making her laugh.

"Always the bad guy.." I heard Angus mumble as I sat next to him on the couch forcing him between myself and Shamus.

"Oh look, it's mummy!" the little girl cried out.

**Shamus POV**

I grumbled to myself as Patrick took a seat on the other side of Alba. I didn't realize it would scare her or I wouldn't have done it, but of course Patrick had to speak up and things got blown out of proportion. Bran did have a point though. If Arthur had been here, things would have been worse.

I squinted at the telly looking at Arthur and a young girl who had been chosen to interview him. Bran and the Bitch had remarkably come up with the plan. A younger child wouldn't attack Arthur like a seasoned reported, but would still show good faith by the personifications.

"So.. uhhh… What's your name?" The dark-haired, wide-eyed girl asked rather awkwardly her cheeks flushed as the crowd watched what was occurring.

"Aww she's a bonnie lass." Angus spoke up from besides me all signs of the fight behind him. He had a light smile on his face. I looked back to the nervous girl on the screen. I guess she wasn't as young as I made her out to be. Maybe she was fifteen with mouse brown hair and plastic framed glasses. Maybe in six or so years I might have flirted but nah kids was always Arthur's thing. I snorted at that; I just made him sound like a pedo.

"Arthur Kirkland, my dear," Arthur smiled gently in that way he always did for children he thought needed a little encouragement. I scrunched my nose. Arthur was good with kids. "But I have gone by many names in the past." He smiled at her again allowing her an easy lead-in for the next question in an attempt to make her more comfortable. Arse Wipe earning brownie points with football moms.

"What else have you been called?" the girl jumped on the easy question. I smirked thinking of all the lovely names Arthur had been called through the years most of which wouldn't be allowed on air.

"Most recently the U.K., as you know is short for the United Kingdom Of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. I've been called England," and he gave the camera a little grin, "I've been called brat, a Curtain Climber, a little bug eater," and Wanker and Shitface and many other things I thought. The girl was smiling and laughing slightly now.

"Who calls you that?" she questioned wide eyes filled with innocent curiosity. I snorted; I bet she was a curtain chewing bug muncher as well.

"My brothers mostly, oh and the man who had to pick me up for the first telly conference. France calls me eyebrows." He smiled gently.

"What happened with your brothers? I saw the YouTube video." I cowered thinking back on the meeting, but in between the Queen's strong will to punish us all equally, Arthur's protective nature of Patrick, Bran's innocent act, and (I gritted my teeth thinking it) Patrick's obliviousness we got off rather easy. No flogging or barred cells. We were getting food, not public torture. I rather like this time period.

"Ahh that," he rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. "Well, I should start with I have three older blood brothers and one younger. There's Angus who's Scotland," Arthur started counting us off on his fingers like there were too many to remember. "Shamus who's Ireland, Bran who's Wales and my youngest sibling Patrick is Northern Ireland." The girl gave him a curious look that caused him to pause and look at her instead of continuing on the question.

"What do you mean 'blood brother?'" she asked. He smiled again with a small chuckle.

"We all have the same mother and are therefore related by blood. I would explain Patrick, but its rather complicated and I don't understand it completely myself. To answer your questions there are certain… frogs who may or may not have looked out for me when I was little. This frog may believe this entitles him to the name of brother."

"You mean France?" the girl asked trying to hide her laughter.

"Yes, yes, but back to your original question. My elder brothers and I grew up in another time, a time where it was acceptable to take the runt of the family and hang him from his ankle upside down in a tree. We were boys; we didn't know any better. We have grown up and matured, but when it's just us for extended periods of time… well, do you have siblings?" He questioned awkward smile across his face.

"Yes I get it!" She smiled all dimples and sunshine. "We pick on each other all the time, but when a high schooler put my bike in a tree, my brother beat him up and threw his bike in the lake." She smiled at Arthur as he laughed slightly.

"Exactly. We keep each other on our toes and look out for one another. I don't know what to do with them when are contact for long periods of time, but I do love them and I am happy when they come around." Liar. I thought to myself.

"Aww, the runt wants us to show up more." Angus snorted.

"Anyway, so with the video, some American tourist recorded it and then some unidentified security guard filmed us being reprimanded."

"They got cut off. Did you get in trouble? Did Wales get out of it and was any of it Patrick's fault?" She asked rapid fire eyes wide.

"We're all grounded, banished to our rooms without electronics." Arthur waved his hand in a non-descript way.

"That sucks," the girl finished up jumping into a story when she was grounded. The telly switched to a commercial break and I snorted.

**Angus POV**

I'd say we got off fairly easy. Of course we were banished to our rooms, and food privileges were revoked but then Arthur threw a fit saying Patrick shouldn't be included and the Queen caved and was allowing us bread and water.

She had taken all of our electronics. Realized we were just as happy with our books and then took those too, but, compared to being locked in the tower or left out at sea or tied to a tree, we were doing good. I stretched out as a note fell out of the vent above my head.

I smiled opening the note. Ah, this one was from Shamus.

_How long do you think it will take for the Bitch to realize we're talking?_

Underneath was Patrick's messy scrawl.

_That's the Crowned Bitch to the likes of you! And… never!_

Under this was Arthur's painfully script like scrawl.

_Do not refer to the royalty as Bitch! Although I side with Paddy; she'll never know._

Bran's hand was looped lazily underneath.

_Well then dear twin, may I call her the wicked witch of the west?_

I smiled at myself while looking at the note. I looked again my mind telling me something was wrong. Patrick's room was besides Arthur's with Bran's room being on the other side of Arthur's. So that order made since. What didn't was the fact that Shamus's room was on the other side of mine, and my room bordered the other side of Bran's. How had Shamus gotten a note to Patrick without it going through me? I scrunched up my nose in aggravation before turning the note over.

_We win!_

…was scrolled on the back in Arthur's script. There was a good chunk of white space then a note in Bran's loopy writing.

_Look at the window._

I looked up to see the twins faces pressed against the outside of my window. When they noticed me looking, they both gave identical shit eating grins before bursting out into peals of laughter. I scoffed at them before stomping over to the window and unlatching it.

The twins rolled in their amusement their laughter getting louder, not that the glass wasn't blocking the sound. They looked up at me with eyes as bright as the first time mother showed them to me all smiles and giggles. I felt a smile cross my face as I fell to my knees wrapping an arm around each and tickling them.

They squirmed in my grasp half heartily fighting me as they wiggled and laughed. I stopped tickling them pulling them both closely to my body. They both snuggled into me.

A half cough alerted us to another presence behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see our lovely Queen behind me.

"I see the punishment is working." There was a youthful tenor to her aged voice and I couldn't help but give her one of my biggest smiles. The twins peeked over my shoulders much like they had done when we were little tots. I could feel their wide smiles and knew their eyes were twinkling.

"Oh yes, we have learned the error of our ways." I laughed.

"Because," One of the twins spoke.

"Punching," I really couldn't tell them apart right now.

"Your," I slipped my hand to the rib cage of the one to my left. It was Arthur. His ribs were funny after a bad break that hadn't been allowed to heal correctly.

"Siblings," This one was Arthur, I was confident of it.

"Is," Bran nuzzled my shoulder like he knew I had figured it out while he spoke.

"Bad," Arthur finished.

"We won't do it again!" they chorused in unison." I could feel their identical shit eating grins. We all knew it was a lie.

"Boys will be boys." The queen sighed. "Though, in light of your recent breach of punishment, I will have to take the jam back with me." I smiled squeezing the twins again. They were worth all the jam in the world. I felt my mind wander as I renewed my promise to mother. I would protect them.

"Since we are already being denied jam," Bran spoke.

"May the others join us in our celebration of bread and teasing Alba?" Arthur spoke up. I stood, dumping them back into the floor suddenly remembering the trick they had pulled on me.

"Maybe I don't want to eat with you." I said glowering at them.

"But you love us." They spoke in unison.

I sighed. I would need the Irelands if they kept this up.

**Thanks everyone for your reviews they mean so much to me. The reason this ne took so long is one of you actually asked me something that made me relies I had a major hole in what I had written.. Anyway thanks bunches guys, and please review.**


	12. Buckingham Palace Day 5

**I don't own hetalia! Love my beta and love my reviewers so thanks everyone. This wouldn't happen without you!**

**Bran POV**

I was on edge. I had a little over 24 hours before the UN's decision would be announced. So far the Queen's picture idea had gone over great. The people of each nation had fallen in love with their own nations as long as with others.

I had eventually branched out from the drama picture to normal ones showing the nations in their day to day. My favorites were the ones of my brothers. I had one of Alba and Shamus holding a pint and smiling a brawl going on in the background. Another with Arthur in a flower bed with spade in hand and dirt smeared across his face. I had one of Patrick when he drove the mini into the house and one of me with ducklings following behind me.

I sighed idly clicking through different news stations when something caught my eye. Alfred, America, had donated his Virginia manor to an orphanage. I clicked on the story when a yelp interrupted my train of thought.

It sounded like Alba; if it was Paddy I would have ignored it. He was a klutz, but Alba was a different story altogether. I pushed my rolling chair away from the desk waiting a moment to see if I heard anything else. There was a thawap sound and I poked my head out the door.

"What do you think?" My twin asked scaring the crap out of me. I jumped turning back to look at him. He was standing to the side of my door frame looking down the hall where I assumed the sound originated from.

We looked at each other then made our way down the hall taking up a post on either side of the open double doors of a sitting room and peering in.

**Arthur POV**

I lost eye contact with my twin in order to look into the sitting room. I made sure to let the shadow of the door cover most of my frame up without really blocking my sight. The only thing I could see was the edge of one of the maid's uniforms.

Bran and I made contact out of the corner of our eyes. We nodded and I moved in slowly. Bran made a lunge and soon we were both braced on the same door.

I peered around the side of the door leaving me visible to any eyes looking at the doorway. Bran's fingers curled in my shirt sleeve so he could pull me back quickly if any danger appeared.

I froze staring at a heavily pregnant maid. She had Alba by, it looked to be, mostly the hair near his ear. From this angle I couldn't see if she had his ear or not as well, but from the look on his face she just might.

I slipped back to look at Bran.

"I can't hear you mister high and mighty nation," a voice only an angry pregnant woman could muster sounded. "Say it again. Louder." She almost snarled at him.

Alba made a sound almost like a whimper. I couldn't blame him; pregnant women are scary.

"I won't harass the maids anymore." Alba's voice called out. "Oww woman," he snarled just barely loud enough to hear. She must have pulled on his hair.

"And?" she prompted.

"I won't make sexual jokes to them, at them or about them. I won't go out of my way to make there lives miserable." He must have been struggling with that. His voice had that sound like it was coming from gritted teeth.

"What do you say?"

"I'm… sor…. I'm feckin' sorry!" the last part was said louder and you could hear the pain in poor Alba's voice.

"She'll be a good mum one day." My twin whispered in my ear. I turned slightly making eye contact with him.

"And you two. March your butts in here." She called out suddenly. Bran's eyes widened rather comically and I would have laughed had my own life not been in peril.

"Yes, ma'am," we chorused together. We stood together facing her. She no longer had a handful of Alba's hair, but he was still on his knees at her feet rubbing his crimson locks.

"Now mind sharing with everyone what you said." Her voice had that tone that let you know you were in deep shit and should just bend over and accept the punishment.

"We were complimenting you." Bran spoke a hesitant smile on his lips. Alba muttered something that may have been "little shit" but I couldn't quite hear.

"Really?" her eyebrow rose in that skeptical way parents and teachers could do.

"Yes," I chimed in. "The way you handle Alba…we just know you'll raise good respectful children." She rolled her eyes at us, but a smile did cross her lips.

"All right, out all of you," she glanced down at Alba who took it as permission to hop to his feet.

"And if I catch you saying any more bad words, Angus, I will wash your mouth out with soap." She called after us. We giggled as we walked away. It wasn't until we were down the hall that it dawned on me: Bran never turned off his computer. Oh well, someone would turn it off eventually.

**Sorry everyone this one is a build up to next chapter, which is edited and if I remember will go up some time next week.**

**Reviewers are awesome!**


	13. Goodwill Remains

**Thanks for the reviews guys, even if they were on my other story. Oh well, as promised the next chapter. Scene and time will start to jump after this. Thanks Fyearth, Miss you bunches!**

**Bran POV**

We stood outside of Arthur's manor. We stood outside of our home. The words form the UN trial echoing through my head. Despite all of our effort, despite what the people wanted, they had sided against us.

We had to give up everything. It had been declared as belonging to the government. Anything we had ever purchased, anything we had ever been given. Once someone had been through our living quarters museums got involved; museums loved us.

I heard Arthur whimper as a man came out carrying his prized pirate hat. The obnoxious feathers fell off the back, the pearls hanging in the front a gift from a lover long dead, the shells a present from America in his childish glee. Even little Canada and Australia had little carved pieces on the hat that had been added long after it was retired.

I stood behind my twin my hands wrapped around his arms in comfort and to hold him back. They were taking our homes, our land. My heart lurched. They were taking my pets, my little lambs, from me as well. They were claimed by the government since government money had bought them. I smirked to myself it wasn't all true; some were bought on Spain's dime from the money in Arthur's pirate days.

I watched them carry out Arthur's ugly ass chair. The one we curled up on together in the winter when it was bitter and cold. They carried out the tea pots I had collected over the years. The paintings of our past leaders and Arthur's red pirate coat.

Arthur choked again shaking slightly as they carried out an old dusty crib. Something he would have made with his own hands. Swords followed and a well preserved long bow as well as tons of books ranging through the ages. The magic from us and the fey preserving items much longer than it should.

A dark wood box was carried out. I could barely make out carvings that date too far back for me to clearly remember. Arthur lunged breaking from my grasp and to the man with the box. His hands were around it tugging at it before anyone could stop him.

There was a click of metal and guns were aimed at him. There was a gasp from the Queen.

"Arthur, Arthur darling let it go." She called to him nearly breathless. No one wanted to see their nation die. It was an auto response in the humans.

"No," Arthur all but cried clinging tightly and jerking back trying to free it from the man's grasp. "It's mine. He made it for me!" I felt my hand go out to stop my twin. The click of metal and a gun pointed at me. I froze. "Alba made it for me before Rome! Before currency so it doesn't count." Arthur cried out again. I watched one of the greedy curators look at the box rather creepily.

"It belongs to the government now and in a museum." He sneered at Arthur. Arthur fell to his knees his grip on the box dragging the man holding it down as well. There was movement and Alba stood at Arthur's side.

"Let go, I'll make you another one." He voice was soft and he placed a hand on top of Arthur's head. I realized something: all the guns had been placed down. None of the men wanted to take that box from Arthur. It wasn't their fault they were just following orders.

"But…it's from before," Arthur hiccupped lightly letting his arms fall from the wooden box. He sunk downwards, the hopelessness radiating from him. "Before we use to fight." It was barely a whisper but the wind caught it carrying to everyone around.

"Well what are you waiting for? Move on," the curator barked.

"You cut the wood yourself, didn't you?" The man asked lowly. Alba nodded though the man's eyes never left Arthur. "My grandfather used to wood work. He liked to show off my dad's early stuff before he dropped the hobbies. Like what the wood on this box feels like: made with care but lacking the skill of a true artist." He looked at the box smiling lightly. He held the box out to Arthur who looked up in shock. "I have to take what's in it, but if Scotland made the box for you and didn't barter or trade for any of the material then it doesn't fall in the UN's binding clause.

Arthur sniffled lightly wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Before taking the box gently he hugged it to his chest for a moment before opening the lid. Papers, the box was full of papers. The man looked at them pausing for a second to read them.

"Hey captain, are they allowed to keep personal letters?" he asked.

"Let me look," He jogged lightly over Alba standing protectively behind Arthur who was allowing them to look through the box. "I have to read them England." He spoke making eye contact with my twin. If they talk about politics, war or any leaders at the time I have to take them." Arthur nodded lightly. "If they're for Arthur Kirkland you're free to keep them." He smiled at Arthur and Arthur grinned back. "Let's move so these boys can get back to work." Arthur stood following the Captain.

"This is an outrage! The museum should have that. It's a priceless artifact!"

"You're taking everything from them!" the captain retorted anger lacing his words. "One wooden box isn't going to end the world. I have an older sibling too. A sibling I fought with. He's gone and I would give anything to have something that he made for me, but a fire took that from me too." The man growled out.

"Jared was a good man, he loved you." Arthur spoke gently causing the captain to wheel around to him wide eyed. "I make it a point to remember everyone who has died for me regardless of occupation." The captain smiled at Arthur slightly and they moved off to the side to go through Arthur's letters.

**Please review? My sibling like to tell me I'm a review whore because I constantly look to see if I have one or because I make him or Fyearth read chapter and want instant feedback… So spare them and review!**


	14. Long Live the Queen

**For those of you hoping this gets happier… when I started writing this fic I was not happy, so it's not. Since then I have become happy. So the next chapter is not pre written and will probably be happy but that sad it's going to take me longer because I can't suddenly have happiness and rainbows. So I ask you to forgive me in advance when the update after this takes forever. I have a chunk written but its like point N and I'm at point F right now. Fear not I will complete my baby!**

**Thanks Mighty Bean for the edits. (yes that's Fyrearth for those keeping score at home)**

**Bran POV**

I ran my hands through my messy hair feeling the grease and knots from leaving it unkempt. I found myself not caring as I looked through the gossip magazine. There was an article on our dear Queen's funeral, but the author had focused it on us. On the nations. I looked down at the picture of Arthur. His eyes were buried in the coat of some random dark haired woman hanging on to her for all he was worth as he shamelessly sobbed. The caption under the picture read "A Grieving Nation". The article interviewed the people surrounding the scene and talked about how Arthur spoke of seeing our dear queen as a little girl just taking her first steps and how she had turned into something of a grandmother to them as she aged. The author of the article made a cleaver quip about a country taking care of its young while those old enough to took care of the country.

There was another picture—one of Patrick holding the young princess in his arms. The cameras had captured his image in a remarkable way shadows fell on the edge of his eyes creating a haunted look on the young red heads face. Sunlight highlighted his hands making his knuckles look white, like he had a border line too tight grip on the sobbing girl. Under that picture was a caption as well, "What will become of our nation(s)?"

The final picture was the one I knew the world had become frenzied about. It was a picture of Alba. He was on his backside hands on the ground like he was trying to scoot away from the person in front of him. Tear tracks were visible on his pale face as he looked at his attacker. The Crowned Bitch and our Queen-to-be had been caught in a rather unflattering way yelling at Alba. Hands on her hips her mouth open and snarl on her perfectly makeup-ed face. It was an image the world was rebelling against. One person in the audience spoke about how she was yelling at him for "ruining the family image" and "for crying." The publicist hadn't made an official defense of the woman. I don't think they knew how. The article went on to talk about the little darling of the royal family and how long her mother would rule until she was eligible to take the throne.

I skimmed over my own horrid image. I was holding the prime minister by the collar of his shirt. His nose was already bloodied and my fist was pulled back to let loose again, my caption was oddly fitting "A nation rebels against it current government." I was praised for my rash moves to defend my late Queen's honor.

I ran my hands through my messy hair again sinking back into my chair letting my shoulders slump and the tears I had been holding back fall. The room I had secluded myself too was the same one I had made the secret agenda with the Queen. The dreary clouds reflected my mood and offered little light to re-read an article I had read too many times.

The door clicked as someone made the way into my sanctuary. I didn't move to look at them. A cold nose found its way to the underside of my jaw before a warm body crawled over the arm of the chair and into my lap. Red rimmed green eyes met mine for a second before pressure was added to my shoulder as my twin laid his head there. My hands came up to grip his sides as my fingers curled into his sides with bruising force. I let my head fall as my nose buried in my twins hair. He smelt like old beer.

Angus and Shamus had thrown a wake to celebrate the passing of our queen in true Celtic style. The Crowned Bitch had been furious. I twitched my nose as the thought of Arthur not having bathed himself since then crossed my mind, but then I wasn't much better. We sat there crying silently together using each other for warmth long after the sun went down.

**I love reviews. And Sarcasm …**


	15. The People

**First off thanks to everyone who's reviewed. All so thanks to my beat Fyearth her new chapter of lady liberty is up. I may or may not have sacrificed my head cannon Portugal to her for this chapter. **

**Second I got a review commenting on the chair being removed from Arthur's home. No it's not Busby's Chair. It's not really described in this story (it is in England Private Moments) but it's a horribly over sized gaudy floral print. One of those chairs that so ugly your ashamed of it until you sit in it. Then it becomes the most comfortable chair you've ever been in. **

**Angus POV**

"Order up," Patrick's voice called from the back of the bar. He knew generally we couldn't hear him, but it amused him to do so. That and all the female customers loved teasing him when he poked his head out from the back.

The phone rang and I answered it cradling it between my shoulder and ear as I stuck several glasses under the beer tap filling them with just the right amount of foam. I snickered to myself.

"O'Mally's what d'ya want?" I answered. Normally I would be lectured for this, but the pub was filled to the gills so I could care less.

"Uncle Angus," A voice almost whispered on the line.

"Matt," I chirped happy to hear from Canada.

"Uhh," the voice trailed off as I slid the glasses down the bar counter to the waiting patrons.

"Hold a tick I'll get yer Mother." I set the phone down without hanging up.

"Oi, Brat." I called out hands cupped around my mouth.

"What!" Arthur screamed from the right of me towards the back were Patrick had called out from.

"Your kid's on the line," I called out.

"Which one," a patron yelled.

"Canada," I called back. There was some whooping and hollering and the name was written on a sheet of paper that had been put on the wall.

"I love this pub," I smiled watching the patrons be just as happy as Arthur over hearing from his kids.

"I've got the bar," Bran said coming up behind me. "Take your break, Paddy's got food." I nodded to him throwing my apron in the little box under the counter.

I wiggled my way around tables smiling at people as I made my way to the back.

"It's under control!" Patrick shouted at me. I looked over at the rolling flames he had on top of the grill as O'Mally rubbed the side of his head. "You said charbroiled." Patrick gave him a big innocent look. The man sighed falling victim again to Patrick.

"Go make salads boy." He said shooing Patrick away from the on fire grill top.

"I'm more fire proof than you." Patrick countered.

"I don't set the food on fire." O'Mally countered.

"Then how do you char it?" Patrick asked eyes wide in curiosity.

"Why can't you work the bar again?" O'Mally asked him. Patrick poked the remains of a burger with his tongues.

"My physical appearance is too young to serve alcohol." He replied with a sigh like it was the worst thing to happen to him.

The two looked at me as I snickered.

"He's half-Irish. He could drink your whole bar and walk in a straight line. Then again he can't walk a straight line sober."

"I heard a commotion, one of the boys call?" O'Mally asked.

"Yes, Canada." I responded poking at the food Paddy had left me.

"I'll go help out on the floor. Patrick people don't eat charcoal." O'Mally said walking out the door.

"Wasn't my intention." Patrick smiled waving the tongs at his back.

I hummed at that letting my mind wander to my own world. In my mind I recalled how we ended up working at O'Mally's.

I still couldn't believe how fast the world had turned on end. They said it was stress. The stress of trying to defend us, the stress of knowing she failed. We had kissed her cheek, gave her smiles and told her we would be fine.

We walked away from the Kirkland Manor. We left the home we had built the same way we arrived on foot—in a line. Arthur cradled that box to his chest. I didn't know he had kept it. I didn't realize what those memories meant to him.

We walked because we didn't want the UN breathing down her neck that she had driven us somewhere and given us shelter. We walked away expecting to see her alive one day in the future. I knew the twins would be curled up together somewhere. I was hoping Paddy would come to me; the boy didn't handle loss well. Shamus was back in his own land.

I thought back to what had happened after we walked away from our Protector and most fearsome defender. Arthur hunched over the box eyes glazed over as he blindly followed his twin in front of him.

We were walking down the street. We had separated to look for cheap lodging for the evening. Arthur and myself while Patrick and Bran went in another direction. We were hoping the twins could use their freaky twin thing to let the other know if they had found something, Arthur fell to the side his head tilted back and he let out a sob.

"My babies," I made out of his blubbering. I freaked. I wasn't sure what to do with him. Pain I could help with, but this was losing America all over again and I sucked at helping with that.

"What's wrong with him?" asked an elderly lady kneeling down next to him. "Poor dear, shush shush." She tried calming him.

"Mother," an annoyed woman spoke. "Let's…" she dropped the bag she was holding. "England," her voice was breathless.

"Mummy, why is that man crying?" a little girl held onto her skirts looking at Arthur.

"Babies?" the elderly woman questioned Arthur who was inconsolable.

"His colonies maybe." A business man spoke up. Arthur's commotion had drawn a crowd.

"Listen sport," another man with graying hair knelt down to Arthur. "I'm going to Australia tomorrow. What's the lad's name? I'll find him and find some way to let you know..." he voice trailed off as he realized his problem.

"You can call my pub." Another man spoke handing out a business card to the gray haired man. "That way they can find out." Arthur sniffled emerald eyes wide and watery as he looked at the people around him.

"My sister's abroad in America. I'll have her see if she can find information on him." A teenage girl offered flashing Arthur a smile. The pub owner handed her a card too.

"Thank you," Arthur whispered. "I'm just so worried about them all. They're really good lads, they just…" he trailed off.

"Oh honey," the elderly woman rocked him. "Boys will be boys."

"My husband's in New Zealand I'll call him." A pregnant woman spoke up. The Pub owner handed her a card.

The woman who first identified Arthur took his arm pulling him to feet. "Let's get you some food then we can get some information about your boys so people can find them." She cooed to him. Her little girl peeked around her ankles and smiled at Arthur.

"Well I'll open up early." The pub owner rubbed the back of his head.

"Come on Scotland let's go." The grey haired man going to Australia placed his hand on my shoulder making me realize I had secluded myself mentally from what was going on. I blindly followed the mass about us. The little girl was now swinging my arm as she walked beside me telling me about how she was using the wishing well near her school to wish for a baby brother.

When we arrived at the pub, Bran and Paddy were already there. So the twin thing did work. The pub owner gave us food and food to the people who were finding the missing Kirkland kids. We also found a free room for the night courtesy of the pub owner.

We stayed in the palace for a week after losing the Queen. Not even the UN could bitch about us or they would have more problems. O'Mally hunted us down after. Said he had heard from a few of the boys and got contact information.

Arthur smothered that poor man in hugs and tears.

O'Mally let us stay in the pub again that night and, when things turned rowdy, I picked the punk ass up and kicked him out. It gave O'Mally an idea. Now we lived at the pub and worked for him.

**Arthur POV**

My feet throbbed, my knees hurt and my lower back ached. To sum everything up, I'm glad the bar's closed now. I dragged myself to the armchair O'Mally had given to us. It wasn't anything compared to my overly comfortable chair, but it belonged to the government now. I slumped bonelessly next to a sprawled out Alba. His red locks fell freely as his head was draped over the back of the chair limbs spread haphazardly.

As I sat he looped an arm around me and pulled me against his body only for him to flop his head on top of mine.

"Why can't you be a few centimeters taller," he whined. "Then you'd be the perfect height to rest my head on." I rolled my eyes at him, but didn't grace him with a response. Instead I wiggled a bit, this chair was really too small for the two of us, and rested my head on his shoulder. His body radiated heat like my own personal furnace and I could feel the heat loosening my muscles.

We sat in silence listening to Patrick's snoring and the shower run. My world was dimming as I sunk further into the relaxing warmth around me.

"How's Mathew?" Alba asked startling me back awake.

"He's worried about the tension rising between the American government and the Chinese government." We brothers had made it a point to distinguish the governments form the countries since the UN wanted it that way.

Alba made a humming sound at me. "What a petty thing to fight over." He mused moving his head off of mine and looking away.

All of Alfred's belongings were supposed to have been auctioned off and the money gathered was to pay off America's government's debt to China's government. Only the really high priced items had disappeared. Some have appeared in the hands of high ranking officials and such. The Chinese government took offense and it appeared the two were on the brink of war.

We didn't have a T.V., but the regulars gave me an update when they came in. With all of us here O'Mally had started opening at noon offering sandwiches and tea. None of us complained because it gave us more hours.

Alba made a humming sound again, and I realized the shower had been turned off. Bran padded into the room in too big pants, a giant shirt and a towel on his head. Everything had been given to us to borrow and use. Another reason we worked our asses off for O'Mally and his patrons.

Bran grabbed the waist band of the pants and moved towards us. His head cocked a few different ways as he looked at the chair. My chair we could have all fit in. This chair would collapse under our weight.

Alba's hands moved to my shoulders and he gave me a light push up. "If you're not taking a shower, go to bed." He stood up once I was on my feet and stretched.

"You should sleep on the bed tonight." Bran spoke up. It wasn't much of a bed. It was an air mattress with a small leak so by the end of the night you were mostly on the floor anyway. We had patched several of the holes; it used to go flat after an hour of having air in it.

"You two fit better with Patrick," Alba said. Bran and I were too far apart for him to look at us both so he had focused his gaze on Bran since he had suggested it.

"It's fine Alba," I chimed in. "We should switch off anyways. That way, at least one night a week, we all have a decent sleep." Alba turned to me.

"When we have the money we'll get another mattress," Bran said.

"Or a real mattress," I mumbled. Bran gave me a flat look. I held my hand out in mock surrender. "Bran's right, we'll get a mattress. If we're lucky, one of those huge ones we can all sleep on. If not, we'll have a mattress and the air bed and can switch off on the two of them." Alba grunted too tired to really argue with us both.

"At least take the pillow." He grumbled moving into the bedroom that Patrick already occupied. The teen had already sprawled himself across the air mattress body smack dab in the middle. Alba sighed again.

"We'll sleep together." Bran and I said in unison. Alba put a hand to his forehead.

"Fine," he pulled the pillow out from under Patrick's head and picked up the other handing one to each of us. As he did his kissed our foreheads. "Sweet dreams." He told us.

We made our way back to the chair. Bran twitched his nose and I could feel my back already forming knots from looking at it.

"Let's go sleep in a booth." I told him moving towards the stairs that would take us to the bar. Bran silently followed me.

We curled up in a corner one the tops of our heads almost touching.

"You don't think it'll come to war, do you?" Bran's voice was barely a whisper.

"I hope not." I sighed.

"Hope for the best but prepare for the worst," Bran quoted the old saying. "How do we prepare for war when we can't afford tea without charity?"

"I don't know," I responded truthfully. I tilted my head up to look at him and he did the same. "But we'll make it though just like always." He smiled at me and I smiled back as our hands connected and we let sleep claim us.

**In the words of my favorite video game charter, Zero, from the mega man X games "It's not over yet!"**

**Please review they make me happy.**


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